Fey pushed herself back onto her feet, brushing off the dirt as if she hadn't just taken a direct hit. Her voice was calm, almost annoyingly so. "All right. Time to strike back."
Lea gave an exaggerated sigh as she dusted her skirt, glaring at the massive turtle lumbering ahead. "Ugh, I hate that turtle. It's slow, ugly, and it just ruined my outfit."
Emma tilted her head, a deadpan look on her face. "Fine, fashion victim. But do we actually have a plan? Or are we just throwing ourselves at the shell again?"
Fey crossed her arms, thinking for a beat. "...Lea. Can you push your skill to Stage Five?"
Lea froze, eyes widening. "Absolutely not."
Emma blinked. "Wait, what? Why not?"
Lea frowned, puffing her cheeks. "Because Stage Five makes me… brutal and unfeminine." She jabbed a finger at herself dramatically. "Do you really want this to turn into some kind of raging muscle beast?"
